


Far Longer Than Forever

by Cinnamonbookworm



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: AU: No Curse, Captain Swan Secret Santa 2014, F/M, Swan Princess AU, lieutenant duckling into captain swan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-24
Updated: 2014-12-24
Packaged: 2018-03-03 05:00:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2838926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cinnamonbookworm/pseuds/Cinnamonbookworm
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She chooses a red dress, for it is summer and red is a summer color and it is not at all because she knows his favorite vest is his red one. Not one bit. It’s not like she has a feeling in her gut that this will be the summer that everything changes. But he doesn’t show up. She never sees the Jewel of the Realm again.<br/>An AU based on the Swan Princess (and slight amounts of Swan Lake). Written for firnickodair for the 2014 captain swan secret santa.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Far Longer Than Forever

**Author's Note:**

  * For [firnickodair](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=firnickodair).



> this fanfiction came dangerously close to a multi-chapter fic two days before it was due. alas, I had family over and limited computer access, so I've given you a variety of the scenes from the original outline, and hopefully the story is presented quite nicely.

Then

_She chooses a red dress, for it is summer and red is a summer color and it is not at all because she knows his favorite vest is his red one. Not one bit. There are no sleeves, just ribbons circling around one of her arms and around her collar._

_She pulls her blonde hair up because it is hot outside because it’s hot outside and not at all because she knows it draws even more attention to the red ribbons on her collarbone. It’s not like she wants him to kiss her there. It’s not like she has wanted it since that fight in the barn when their lips were inches from each other’s in anger._

_It’s not like she’s been thinking about him all summer. Because she hasn’t. For the record._

_Still, she can’t help running to the tower that overlooks the harbor just watching, waiting, for the Jewel of the Realm to sail into the harbor. Her red dress flutters in the wind and she knows she paints the perfect picture. She knows a stray curl near her left ear has come undone and gives her the look of effortless beauty. But it’s not like she knows he’ll be able to see her when he comes in on the ship. It’s not like she remembers that he told her all those years ago that his favorite place on the ship is the crow’s nest and that he likes to sit on top of it as he comes into a harbor._

_It’s not like she’s imagined this moment every day since she turned sixteen and her parents told her she was allowed to start courting. It’s not like she’s known in her heart that, despite hating his guts, the only person she can even begin to imagine herself kissing or courting or dancing with is Killian Jones._

_It’s not like she has a feeling in her gut that this will be the summer that everything changes._

_But he doesn’t show up._

_The Jewel of the Realm never shows up in the harbor. She waits for hours and hours until it starts to get dark outside, and her mother sends Red to bring her inside because she’ll catch a chill. But Emma doesn’t care if she catches a chill, she doesn’t care that her perfectly curled updo has been thoroughly ruined by the wind and that the skirt of her dress is lightly dusted with dirt from the stone floor of the tower’s balcony._

_She cries herself to sleep that night, because where is Killian? and everything is ruined._

_The next day her parents tell her that Liam Jones, beautiful, wonderful, gentle Liam who she used to spend every summer with until he joined the navy, is dead. They tell her that Killian is not coming._

_She spends the summer running around the woods surrounding the palace by herself, pretending she doesn’t wish that Killian was here to share it with her. One day, she runs into a boy who calls himself Neal and tells her all about the dark sorcerer he’s run away from, and she kisses him two weeks later, in the woods. She lets go of her summer fantasies, and it feels like she’s growing up._

_She never sees the Jewel of the Realm again._

Now

No one notices that anything is wrong. No one ever notices that anything is wrong. No one realizes anything is wrong, because _Aunt Red_ is coming, and it’s supposedly with someone Emma’s supposed to marry, because, as her parents had so delicately told her, she was taking too long to find a true love, and she was already twenty one, and they weren’t going to be around forever.

No one except her knows that this is the day she gave birth to Neal’s stillborn child three years ago. No one knows that this was the third anniversary of the day the one person she’d ever believed could be her true love left her in the dust, with no trace of being found.

Emma doesn’t want to be matched up. She doesn’t want to rule the kingdom. She doesn’t want to just follow in her mother’s footsteps. She doesn’t want this, any of this. She hasn’t wanted it for a long time

And it’s only because this day reminds her of Neal that she remembers his stories of the dark sorcerer. And if anyone can change her fate, it’s him.

At first, she doesn’t know if she’s actually going to escape. Oh she's tried before, many times, but someone always stopped her. _Graham_ had always stopped her. Graham had stopped her from running away when Neal had left, when her child has been born already dead, and all the times before. Until Queen Regina had come to visit, and he has mysteriously died.

Emma hadn't thought it was a coincidence, especially since he died the night after she had kissed him in the North tower. She didn’t know if it had meant anything. There hadn’t been _time_ to know if it had meant anything, because before she could process her feelings his body was in the ground.

That had been two months ago.

There is no one to stop her from leaving now.

So she pulls up a brown hood over her plain white peasant gown and knows that no one will even know she’s gone until dinner. They never notice that she’s gone anymore. Not with baby Leopold around.

The Dark Castle sits alongside a lake. There are no bridges or boats, and Emma knows her dress is too heavy for her to swim across. She considers the situation for a moment, before a voice interrupts her thoughts. “You know, for a magical princess, you sure are useless in a tight spot, dearie.”

Emma cannot help but roll her eyes at him. _Magical?_ She’s not magical. If she was magical she would’ve fixed this situation herself. She would’ve fixed so many situations herself. “I’m not magical….” she starts, but then she turns and sees someone who looks slightly like an imp.

“If I was better in a tight spot, I wouldn’t be here.”

“Quite right. So… what is it you want, Princess Emma? Perhaps your still-born child to have been born breathing? Or for your dashing knight to come back to life? Or…” Rumplestiltskin seems startled for a second as Emma feels him combing through her memories. “Ahh, I see, you want to change your fate.”

“Well, yes… I was hoping you could…”

“Ask and you shall receive, dearie.” He steps towards her and eyes the necklace around her neck, the one Neal gave her all those years ago, the swan. “I have something that will change your life.”

And with that, he waves one of his hands, and Emma finds the world growing around her, only to realize she is shrinking.

“Have fun guarding my moat, Miss Swan.”

And sure enough, when she looks into the lake surrounding his castle, she sees a swan staring back at her, just like the one one her necklace.

 

Hook is about to give up when he notices the swan circling the castle. If something as docile as a swan can live on this lake, then maybe it is safe enough for him to swim across. Then, for all he knows, the swan could be a bloody demon luring him in just to kill him.

He has to risk it.

The Dark One’s dagger lies within the walls of that castle, and he’ll get to it, swan demon be damned, even if it kills him. So he follows the swan until it finally comes to rest on the surface of the lake, not even paying attention to the setting sun, because he is _finally_ so close.

And then the sun hides behind the hills that surround the lake, and he realizes the sky above him must be enchanted by the Dark One because the stars have come down and started to swirl around the swan.

 _Here it goes._ He thinks. _Here comes the demon._

He finds himself readying his sword and his hook as the swan dives under the water, only to re-emerge as something white and long and elegant.

_Bloody hell, it’s not so much of a something but a someone._

It’s obviously a woman; he can see that much from the way her dress curves around her body, and the long blonde hair that flows down her back.

_Why does the back of her head look so familiar?_

He’s heard of sirens before, ladies of the lake, who take on familiar shapes to lure their prey into the water. He assumes thats what the swan is, although it seems strange that the Dark One would use such a creature to guard him. Then again, he always has been a coward.

He clears his throat, wanting to get this over with as soon as possible, and she must not be expecting him, which is strange. “Well, let’s get this over with, shall we, love?”

And then she turns, and she looks so familiar. His sword is already drawn and at her neck, but he’s reluctant to do anything other than press it against her skin, because something’s stopping him.

 

Emma can feel the cold metal against her skin. She can see the darkness in her attacker’s blue eyes and the hook on his hand. She holds her breath, because _Captain fucking Hook_ is holding her at swordpoint. She almost laughs, because the situation is so ridiculous. After so many years of wanting _something_ more, some sort of adventure or battle or _something_ , she’s finally getting it, except now it would hardly be a fair fight, because she’s under the protection of Rumplestiltskin.

Although, now that she thinks about it, he may not protect her. All she knows about the Dark One’s reasoning for keeping her here is that it has something to do with luring his son back to him. Maybe she’s already been used as bait.

Still, no matter how much she’s worth to Rumplestiltskin, she doesn’t want to die. And she didn’t spend _all_ her time with Graham kissing him. So, she does what she’s been trained, and almost disarms him by knocking one of her magical armbands against his sword. He smirks at her resistance, and it looks so familiar, but she can’t focus on it, because she’s currently fighting for her life.

They continue like this, him jabbing and her parrying for a while until he finally says something. “I can’t decide, are you a siren, or a mermaid?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know.”

He laughs and something tugs at her in the back of her mind, but she pays no mind to it. They turn together and he lunges at her heart with his hook, but she blocks him by crossing both her arms across her chest, her armbands making a sort of shield. He gets close to her face when this happens. Perhaps too close. She can feel his hot breath on her face. He smells like rum and salt and leather. “Perhaps I would.”

This time, she’s the one smirking, because it makes no sense why they are talking while they swordfight, or why she doesn’t feel quite threatened for her life. “Well, I thought mermaids were supposed to have fins.”

“Ahh, you’re quite right about that. Most of the mermaids I’ve seen do. But you are the one who’s guarding the Dark One’s castle, so I’m willing to suspend my disbelief.” He strikes.

“The only thing I’m guarding is my life.” She dodges.

He seems not to hear her. “So which is it then, a siren or a mermaid?”

“Neither.” She can feel her green eyes burrowing daggers into his chest. His very _exposed_ chest. “I just happen to be one of his prisoners.”

He catches her off guard while she’s protesting, and, once again, his sword is at her pulse point. “So then what the bloody hell are you doing fighting me?”

Emma glares back, not fearing for her life quite as much as she had the last time they’d been in this situation. “You attacked first.”

 

This not-mermaid is glaring at him. And she is quite right, he did attack first, although, to be fair, he had been convinced she was guarding the Dark One’s castle. He stares back at her, trying to piece her together. _What would the Dark One want with a woman like this?_ After a few moments of mutual scowling, each of them backs off, she lowers her arms from fighting position, and he finds himself lowering his sword.

“So how exactly does a lass such as yourself end up under the custody of Rumplestiltskin?” He knows he’s swaggering around her, and probably not giving the best first impression, but he did just try to kill her, so he figures all first impressions have been ruined already.

“I… actually came looking for him. I wanted a different life.”

“You, love, must have a death wish.” He points at her. “Either that, or you’re crazy, which I’m inclined to think, seeing as you thought going to the _bloody Dark One_ for help would be smart. What was so bad about your old life anyway?”

Her green eyes darken. Probably another bad move. “It’s none of your business.”

“Fine then, _love_ , I’ll just be on my way then.”

 

The pirate is taking off his clothing. There are a hundred different situations she would rather be in where that was true. But he seems to want to try and swim across the lake. She’s trying not to look, she really is, but it’s kind of hard.

And then he drops his coat and a small insignia falls out of it and she recognizes it immediately and that is when everything _finally_ starts to make sense. She stoops down to pick it up, just to make sure, and her heart stops dead in its chest.

There it is, the naval insignia that she remembers from her childhood, and she blames herself immediately for not recognizing him.

(Truth be told, she didn’t want it to be him.) (She didn’t want to know that he had become a pirate.) (She didn’t want to know that he had fallen so far.)

She holds it in her hands, and he notices, trying to take it back, but she dodges, and he isn’t really trying that hard, anyways. A bitter laugh comes out of her mouth. “Oh how the mighty have fallen. Who would’ve thought Lieutenant Killian Jones would’ve ended up such a _pirate_?”

Hook stiffens, and then he looks up at her. He catches sight of the insignia in her hands, and then he looks up at her eyes, and he seems to come to the same realization.

“That’s rich, coming from a princess-turned-prisoner. And I’ll have you know, I haven’t been Killian Jones in quite some time.”

“Clearly.” She glares at him, but cannot bring herself to say anything more hurtful, because her younger self deserves some sort of closure, at least. “You can’t swim across, by the way, there’s a whirlpool monster down there; only _I_ can.”

“Help me then.”

“Help you do _what_ exactly?”

“If you must know, I need something inside that castle.”

“What. Is. It?” She demands, more forcefully than she can understand.”

“And just why should I tell you, _love_?” His last word sounds like it should be a term of endearment, but it just makes Emma feel like he’s mocking her.

“Because…” she struggles to find the right words, “because… _goddamnit_ Killian, how else am I supposed to help you?”

Her words shock both of them, and they stand there in silence, his left boot half off, and the bottom of her white dress covered in mud from when she’d reached down to grab the insignia. For a second, she sees Killian Jones, the boy she once loved in his eyes, but Captain Hook, flirty, broken Captain Hook comes back a second later.

“If you must know…” he starts, “it’s a dagger.”

 

Then

_The first time he ever sees her, she towers above him in leather pants and a red shirt, pointing a sword at his face, and he thinks he might just hate her, because he should know better than to be disarmed by a girl, much less a princess._

_He learns later that she’d just come from her sword lesson with her father, and jumped at the chance to show her skills off to someone closer to her age._

_The first time she ever sees him, he is wearing a blue, so blue that she knows he’s from somewhere else, because everything in this castle is white and gold and red, and being someone else means that he is a stranger and he looks about her age and there’s finally someone here who she can show off to._

_She learns later that he is stuck up and annoying and she likes his older brother much better as company._

_Their first summer together is full of lots of fistfights and competitions and she just wants to be better than stuffy annoying bookworm Killian Jones who somehow, despite not being trained by her father, seems to beat her in every swordfight she has with him, and it drives her insane._

 

Now

It is Emma who finds the knife for him after two days of him camping out on shore. She can’t reach it, hell, she can’t even enter the castle, but she sees him place it in a magic vault.

She also sees that, when night falls, sometimes his cleaning maid forgets to lock one of the windows. The one that just happens to be near the magic vault.

“Why are you doing this?” she asks him often. “Revenge isn’t the answer to everything.”

He deflects all her questions with innuendo and walls that are just as high as the ones she has, so all she manages to get out of him is that something happened between Liam’s death and them meeting again that broke him into even more fractured pieces, and Rumplestiltskin had something to do with it.

Perhaps he turned him into a crocodile.

Wouldn’t that be ironic.

“The window only opens at night though, and at night I can’t fly through.”

“Then we’ll just need to get me across, Swan.” He responds. He’s taken to calling her that, because for some reason he gets this horrible pained look in his eyes every time he calls her _Emma_ or _Princess_ or anything of the sort. She puts up with the absolutely-not-creative nickname, along with several others that sound like they should be endearing, but she can’t totally decide whether or not they are, because to pry into his life would mean him prying right back into hers, and she can’t have that.

“And just how are we going to do that?”

And then he’s behind her and his face is close enough to her neck that she can feel his dark stubble tickle her collarbone, and all her teenage fantasies come back for one fleeting second before she pushes them away again. “Why you are going to distract that whirlpool monster while I swim across.”

She is so confused by his words that she whirls around immediately, only to find their faces too close for her comfort. She backs up. “Look, we’ve been over this before; it doesn’t notice me.”

“Precisely why you’ll be doing that under the light of the moon.”

And for once, his plans do not seem that awful or horrible or downright ridiculous, because _this could work._

“Or you know,” and his voice gets all husky again, “you could let me ride you all the way across, Swan.”

She rolls her eyes at his advances. “Absolutely not.”

 

So, here he is now, staring at one of the open books on the desk, because he can’t get around that _bloody_ magic safe, and a page has caught his eye.

__________________________________________________________________________

_ the Animal Inside _

_Will turn any foe into the animal of the caster’s choosing._

_Faults: Can be broken, like most spells, by an act of true love. In this case, it is a declaration. Kisses, and other love sacrifices will not work._

__________________________________________________________________________

He thinks the page must have been changed, because he can see no sort of incantation or something of the sort. But he knows now what can save Emma. He has to tell her. She can go back to her family now.

So why does he feel so downhearted?

It’s probably because he knows that there’s no such thing as true love. If the world has taught him one thing, it’s that. And, from what she’s let slip about her life after they parted ways, she doesn’t seem to believe in it either.

He has to give it a chance though, has to give her a chance to escape the Dark One’s curse before he himself becomes the Dark One. So, he pads his way over to the shore of the lake, where she is sitting shivering from her dip in its waters (which are abnormally cold, even for March).

She turns to look at him, and the sight of her green eyes send chills down his spine that have absolutely nothing to do with his previous dip in the lake. “So, did you find anything?” She sounds curious and excited, like they are exploring the hidden wonders of her castle together back when he was still a newly appointed lieutenant and she was not a swan, but still a duckling.

“Aye,” he starts, not sure how to tell her that he went into the castle looking for away to avenge what the Crocodile has done to him, only to find a way to avenge what said Crocodile has done to her.

“So…” she prompts, “where is it?”

Hook finds himself sighing, still feeling the frustration that he’d come so close to getting his hands (er-hand) on the dagger, only to have it tantalizingly placed in front of him without him being able to touch. “Alas, the dagger is protected by some magical force-field, and I could not find a way around it.”

“So you’re just giving up?”

“On the contrary, Swan, I’ve only come down just now because I believe I have found the solution to your problem.”

Emma huffs indignantly. “Which one?”

“The _swan_ problem, Swan.”

With that, her green eyes grow wide and he is once again reminded of their times together at her parents’ castle. The glimpse of what could’ve been, had their lives not been so utterly destroyed, tugs at the heartstrings he had not known were still taught, and he finds himself having to look away again.

“ _You did?_ ” Her voice sounds so elated, and he doesn’t know how to crush her with the news of what it is, because he knows neither of them really believe in true love’s anything anymore.

“A declaration of true love.” He spits out bitterly, and finds it hurts to watch her wide and hopeful eyes look down in disappointment.

“So, we’re both giving up, then.”

And it’s what he’d expected her to say, but as he watches a delicate finger pull up the grass at her feet in frustration. _No._ He finds himself thinking. N _o. I will not let her life be as ruined as mine. I will not let the Crocodile destroy another life. Not if it can be helped._

“No, Swan, no.” the words are out of his mouth before his brain can catch up with them. “As I’ve already stated, neither of us are giving up. There’s only a matter of time before I get my hands on that dagger - I’m already so _close_ \- and there’s got to be _someone_ out there that’s just as bloody perfect for you as your parents were for each other.”

Emma looks at him skeptically, but he finds himself rambling on, despite the fact that they are both sopping wet and he has absolutely no idea what he is talking about because if true love did exist, then he would’ve died along with Milah.

“Tell me love, there’s got to be someone out there that made you feel like he could be your true love.”

And then her eyes come back up from the ground where she’d been staring at the roses she’d started destroying, and they’re holding the same pained expression that he sees in the mirror every time he thinks of Milah. “Maybe there was… once.”

“And his name would be…?”

“Neal.”

“Then all we have to do is find this Neal, wherever the blazes he is, and get him to confess his undying love for you, break your curse, get the dagger, and then we can part ways as unlikely friends. This is _bloody brilliant_ , Swan, _you_ are bloody brilliant.”

And he finally gets a smile out of her.

 

Then

_Here’s how the story goes: boy meets girl. Girl and boy hate each other instantly for years until finally all the anger and unresolved sexual tension reaches its climax. And that is exactly what happened._

_If you ask him, he didn’t know what the hell they were fighting about; the princess just seemed to want to fight about everything these days._

_If you ask her, they were fighting because he had stuck his nose into her business again and it wasn’t her fault that he was too stuck up and pompous to think that a fifteen year old girl can kiss a boy as many times as she wants, even though she is the crowned princess._

_“Why are you even interested in that guard anyway?” He’d practically screamed at her as he followed her into the stables after accidentally stumbling across her stealing a kiss with Graham in the library. “I bet it’s because he spewed you some horse shit that that awful Lancelot told him to.”_

_Yes, that was how angry he was with her, to the point that he was cursing, despite his valiant attempts not to as to ‘preserve her maidenly ears.’_

_“You know what it is…” she’d fired back. “I bet you’re jealous!”_

_And for a second he was scared that she’d realized the true extent of his feelings, because he could barely deal with the fact that he felt him, let alone that she knew about them, so he tried to play it off cool._

_“Jealous…?” he’d scoffed. “Of what?”_

_“That I had my first kiss before you! Admit it, I’m winning!”_

_“Romance is not a game, Emma! And, as much as you’d hate to admit it, if it is, you are most definitely not winning!”_

_At that, she’d whirled around, her braid nearly whipping him in the face, and so angry that she’d almost tripped over her brown leather riding boots. “And just what, do you mean by that, Lieutenant?”_

_“I had my first kiss years ago, although it’s not like you would know that,_ Princess _, since you don’t seem to know anything about romance at all.”_

_“Who was it with?”_

_“Tinkerbell.”_

_“The fairy?”_

_“Yes.”_

_“Where?”_

_“At her treehouse.”_

_“When.”_

_“Two years ago.”_

_“So you were my age?”_

_“Yes.”_

_“Fifteen and how many months?”_

_“Seven. And you, Princess, are fifteen and six months, so I believe I am still winning.”_

_“Was it good?”_

_“What kind of question is that?”_

_“A valid one, because I can’t imagine anyone enjoying kissing you.”_

_“Well she did. And you’re one to talk.”_

_“What’s that supposed to mean?”_

_“I’m just saying, Graham was only kissing you because he wants to be king, not because he actually thinks you’re a good kisser.”_

_“And you’re better?”_

_“Actually, yes.”_

_“Really?”_

_“Really!”_

_“Prove it!”_

_“And just how am I supposed to do-”_

_But he never got to finish his sentence, because then her lips were on his and, despite what he’d said earlier, he had no doubt that she was the most brilliant of kissers, but this, this was something else entirely._

_And, despite his position and his poise and his propriety, he found him pulling on the sword holster on her belt to drag her closer to him, and her hands were grasping the lapels of his riding jacket and it was the best moment either of them had ever experienced._

_(and the best kiss too)_

_At least, it was, until she pulled away. Or he pulled away. Neither of them can really quite remember who pulled away first._

_“Told you I was good, Princess.” He smirked._

_“One time thing, Jones.” She told him, trying desperately to hide her breathlessness, before getting on her horse and riding off, away from him._

_His brain wasn’t functioning well enough for him to follow her.  _

Now

All of this comes flashing back to him as he stands over the unprotected dagger. The Dark One is out, most likely at Emma’s homecoming ball, because who would’ve known, but Neal is Balefire and Baelfire is Neal, and where else would a cowardly father be but trying desperately to get his son to return to him?

Except now he knows he’s made a huge mistake.

Because, of course, of _fucking_ course he has to realize that he’s still in love with the feisty, golden-haired princess who made his blood boil right as he gets his hands on the one thing he’s been wanting for his entire life.

His life can’t possibly be fulfilled now. He can’t use this dagger and become the Dark One now to destroy Rumplestiltskin, because now he has  something to live for. Or someone. And that someone is currently being saved from her curse by the guy who left her pregnant and alone and who is apparently just as much of a coward as his father.

_Why did he ever think that was a good idea?_

But he can’t think about Baelfire and Emma right now, because that forces him to remember that that same coward is most likely her true love, and he can’t keep her from her one chance at being reunited with her family and freed of the curse that keeps her a swan.

The only thing is, she’s _saved him_ from a life of revenge. From a life of becoming the darkest of all dark ones. She’s saved him. And is it really that selfish of him to want to save himself by keeping her from being saved?

 

Emma cannot leave the lake.

She doesn’t know why, because Rumplestiltskin seemed all-too-happy to let her leave as soon as he found out that her true love was most likely his son.

But it’s not like it matters, because there is now a force field surrounding the perimeter of the lake and she can’t leave.

It also doesn’t help that she’s been handcuffed to one of the rocks.

She looks toward the castle, where Killian should be coming out of any minute now with the dagger, but he isn’t. He doesn’t. No one is coming for her.

 

So he rides, like he has never ridden before. Like he should’ve ridden after her after that kiss in the stables all those years ago. And he reaches her parents castle, the path to which seems ingrained into his heart, just in time to see her talking closely with Baelfire on the balcony.

 _Good for her_. He thinks, _maybe both of us can be saved_. He doesn’t want to think about what that might mean for him. For them.

Then Baelfire walks away from her leaving her on the balcony alone. He startles her as he calls up. “So, did it work, love? Are you free of your curse?”

“I don’t know!” She yells back, but she looks ecstatic, and he is happy for her, he really is. “I’ll just have to wait and see! What are you doing here Hook? I thought you’d be scaly and powerful by now!”

That should’ve been his first warning. She’d been calling him Killian since his first night camped beside the lake. There’s no reason she would change now.

“About that… I need to talk to you! Come down!”

And so she comes, rushing down, but her poise is more princess-like than he remembers, or perhaps it is more queenly.

“Well, Swan…” he starts, but she cuts him off.

“I’m not a swan anymore, Hook, you don’t need to keep calling me that.”

“Right, yes…” he continues, scratching behind his ear with his hook, a nervous tick that developed sometime after his first encounter with the Crocodile. “I know that this is horrible timing, and that you’ve probably just found your true love and all that, but _godsdamnit_ , Emma, I need to tell you before we go our separate ways.” He waits for any reaction from her at all, but she looks the same as she had been on the balcony, flushed and happy and _he can’t ruin it for her can he?_ He decides he must. “I never thought I’d be capable of letting go of my first love, Milah. That is, until I ran into you again, and I realized that, as much as I love her, as much as her love drove me every day until this very moment. _You_ were - are - my first love and somehow you’ve made me more of a man than a monster, and even though I know that you probably just had your curse lifted mere seconds before I arrived, I couldn’t take a chance that I was wrong about you and Neal; I couldn’t let you live cursed if I knew I had the chance to save you. So, Princess Emma, who has held a piece of my heart for so many years, I officially declare my love for you in the hope that it will break your curse, and for no other reason, because I know that there is no possible way you could love me back.”

He turns away, not wanting to look her in the eyes, but his blood runs cold as a laugh comes from behind him that is so unlike Emma. “Well done, Hook, you just killed yourself a swan.”

The illusion shatters. The woman who had looked so much like Emma’s appearance shatters into pieces, revealing a much different woman, in black and red, with her long dark hair pulled up in an elaborate updo, and her burgundy lips stretched into an evil smirk.

 

At the lake surrounding the castle, Emma feels a stab of pain and blacks out cold.

 

 

Hook mounts his horse as fast as he can, trying as hard as he can to ignore Queen Regina’s cold laughter behind him. “You can’t save her, pirate, you’ve just killed her. I mean, you can try, of course, if you just want to hold another loved one in your arms as they die, but I wouldn’t, if I were you, don’t you think you’ve suffered enough?”

“Who are you to talk about suffering?” He snarls back. “If you knew _anything_ about suffering, you would know that it is the only thing that gets _anything_ done in this world!”

“Don’t you dare talk to me about suffering, pirate!” The queen growls, momentarily losing her composure, “Fine, go off and suffer again; I’ll be celebrating the loss of Snow White’s happily ever after.”

And with that he rides. This time, he does not trace the route in his head, but merely follows his beating heart, which is stinging with the pain of a thousand blades. As if he needed any more confirmation that he had just destroyed the one chance he had of true love.

And then, there she lies, just as the sun is coming up, chained to a boulder. “Swan!” He rushes to her side, and she smiles weakly at him. “Swan, I am so so sorry.”

“Why would you be sorry?” She asks in a whisper. “Its not your fault that Neal confessed to the wrong person.”

“Love, it was not him that did this to you, it was me.”

“Killian…? It’s been you? The whole time?”

“Aye.”

“If life’s a game, Killian, you win. But only because i’m…” she takes a shaky breath, “forfeiting.”

“You can’t forfeit now, love. You’ve been winning all along.”

“I knew it.” Her eyes start to glass over, and her breathing slows, but she keeps talking. “I hope you know, I love you.”

And the sun rises. The life falls out of her eyes, and droplets of water begin to swirl around her dying form. He fears she is going to spend her last moments as a swan. It can’t end. Not like this. Not when he knows she loves him back.

A breath of air.

She lives.

“I’m still winning.” Is the first thing she says.

 

No one is surprised that the young lieutenant who used to run around the castle is the one to marry the princess. However, it does cause quite a stir when it is revealed that Captain Hook is to marry the Swan Princess.

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> let me know what you think, especially since the latter end of this was rushed out.  
> other things i would've liked to include but did not because i was out of time: all the flashbacks about young killian jones and emma swan running around the castle, flashback to emma's relationship with neal, more development on them falling in love with each other again, also, belle would've been a nice touch


End file.
